The Pale Mist

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2026-08-21 13:55:24 -

The Pale Mist

The mist sat heavy on the valley floor. It was not a natural fog. It smelled of sulfur and old copper. Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the cliff, his boots sinking into the wet grass. He looked down. The town of Oakhaven lay below, shrouded in the pale swirl. It looked like a wound that would not close. He was tired. His bones ached with a deep, dull throb. He had walked for three days. His...

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